Latest life lesson : don't accidentally send an "I nutted on her tramp stamp" text to your tattoo-less girlfriend. Oops.
He was drunk at Denny's at 5 am saying how Dear John was the worst movie he has ever seen... eyes filled with tears.
I am literally too baked to press the call button. How am I supposed to bone him?
Because the last time i saw or spoke to him he came all over me in a hammock.
I have no idea. Next thing I know we're all down on one knee saying the pledge of allegiance and then singing I'm Proud to be an American. Then Trevor ate pizza off the sidewalk.
I need to get my pants from under your porch. People are asking questions.
His little brother just walked in, asked me if I'd blown his brother yet and then announced that he and his friends were going to play outside so we could play too.
I should probably just look up vagina pictures in the anatomy textbook. That always cheers me up.
I'll do a soapy photo shoot for you in the shower. No loofas, though. Once you get one of those caught in your nipple ring, you never go back.
By the way if you come home and I'm not wearing pants, just go with it. I didn't have the energy to go searching for some.
Let's get drunk and go to Walmart and just tackle people at random.
I spent the day drinking wine and meditating. I'm zen as fuck.
Remember Christopher who always sends me pictures of his penis? Look to your right, boy in the blue.
He says it takes a lot to subdue the urge to just bury his face in my vagina. Of course, I have absolutely no problem with this.
I lost a bet last night, now I have to name the baby Fetty Wap, regardless of gender. Riley is going to kill me.
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